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Rh her kindly, and did not lecture her, for all she said was, "Now you are my good child again, and I am pleased with you."

"What shall I do first?" asked Moss, springing out of bed when the little mice called her next morning at dawn.

"Come and welcome the sun with me, for I bear him good-morrows from all in the field," said the lark, as she rose from her nest.

"Are you never tired of this long flight?" asked the elf, as they floated up through rosy clouds to the blue above.

"No, for I can never fly high enough, nor pour forth my happiness loud enough, I am so weak and small. But though I never reach the sun, I carry back with me blithe memories of things above here to gladden my whole day." And with a gush of unspeakable joy falling from her little throat, Lightheart soared far out of sight, then dropped into her nest, leaving musical echoes behind.

"Ah! that was fine! and I'll go again to-morrow," cried Moss. "What next, Mother Mouse?"

"Come to the river and bring up water for the day," said Nibble, always interested in the eating and drinking part of the housekeeping.

Away they all raced, eager to see which would fill their green pitcher first, for they used the leaves of a plant called Forefathers' Cup, and Mrs. Mouse had rows of them in her cool cellar, as we keep wine-casks in our own.

The more Moss did, the more she liked it, and all day long she worked like a busy ant, helping Skip store acorns, shaking down ripe grains from the wheat-ears for madam's